


Something between us

by classicpleistocene



Series: A Czech and an Italian walk into an ice skating anime [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, EmiMike, F/F, First Kiss, First Love, First Time, GPF, Italian Character(s), M/M, MichEmil, Rostelecom Cup, bi!Emil, czech character, demi!Michele, how many fucking names does this ship have, kind of, nekospino, this is me trying to explain wtf goes on on Mickey's mind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-12 06:24:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9059368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/classicpleistocene/pseuds/classicpleistocene
Summary: Michele has a hard time letting go of his twin sister Sara, but he's trying.He doesn't know Sara is not the one being courted by Emil Nekola.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **EDIT:** submitting this for Emimike Week 2017, since they accept works that have been posted previously!  
>  This story features a number of **firsts** (day 1), several instances of **mutual language learning** (day 2), a healthy dose of **opposites attract** (day 3), a pinch of **different culinary taste** (day 4), and a **club** (day 5). 
> 
> I really hope you all enjoy this, and I'll be writing more of emimike this week as well.
> 
>  **Original:**  
>  I wrote this on a whim because I really love the Michele/Emil ship and I think it deserves some recognition. Also I think the way Michele is shown on the show is a bit silly and he has to have more layers than that, so watch me try to give his character some depth. 
> 
> I suck at finding titles so I literally just picked the last Italian song I heard ("Qualcosa di grande" by Lunapop) and adapted one of its lines to this fic (it's up to you if the "us" is Michele and Sara or Michele and Emil -or both)
> 
> Find me on Twitter: [@cl_pleistocene](https://twitter.com/cl_pleistocene) or [on Tumblr](https://aftgonice.tumblr.com/).

“I’m sorry for saying such mean things earlier. But I’m glad I did. We’re better apart, after all.” Sara’s eyes sparkled as Michele hadn’t seen in years, not since the first time she landed her triple lutz-triple loop combination. It had almost been sheer luck: it had been weeks before she had managed to land what was now her signature move again. “Oh, Seung Gil’s starting. Later!” Her next words brought him back to the present. He stared for a moment, mouth open in bafflement, before being distracted by the journalists wanting to interview him at the kiss and cry.

Later, he wasn’t all too upset for not having passed the selection for the Grand Prix Final. Sara had still her free skate the next day, but he had no doubts that she would make it. He would go with her to Barcelona, of course. He was walking with her when Katsuki appeared in the corridor, and Sara went to congratulate him. He had a weird, almost apathetic look to his face, and he reached for Sara to hug her.

“What are you doing?!” Michele couldn’t stop his reaction.

Katsuki’s only answer was a ribs-crushing hug that surprised Michele enough that he let out a small shriek. He barely registered Emil’s voice coming from behind him.

“Was that Michele screaming?”

_This Czech is everywhere_ , thought Michele as Katsuki disentangled himself from him and moved on to hug Emil and every other person he could find. Emil came to stand next to him as they finally watched the Japanese skater leave, and put his arm around Michele’s shoulder with friendly demeanor.

“He sure must miss his boyfriend,” said Emil.

Michele _tsk_ ed and took Sara by her hand, ready to be done with the day.

“Sara, _andiamo._ ”

“Hey, Mickey! Sara! Let’s grab a bite together!” Emil followed them.

Sara glanced back, certainly ready to accept his invite, but Michele was faster. “Sara has to skate tomorrow, she needs to rest.”

“So? She’ll still need to eat, right?” Emil caught up to them.

“Yes, I will,” said Sara. “Mickey, come on. _You’ve barely made friends because you’re always alone with me. What we talked about earlier isn’t just about skating, you know. We need to start making friends with other people, too. Be independent. I’m not asking you to change from one minute to the other, but won’t this be a good transition? Us two and Emil?_ ” She had said all this in Italian.

Michele knew she was right, of course. He just wasn’t ready to let her go after twenty-two years of being completely inseparable. He’d never felt lonely, having her, but he knew Sara was not him. She was more extroverted, and Michele simply wasn’t enough for her anymore. He would give her twin sister the moon and every planet if she asked for them, so why was _this_ so hard?

“ _You’re right._ ” He said it because it was the right thing to do, but his throat was tight as he did.

Emil had watched this exchange with a curious look, but he must have sensed the mood and the conceding tone in which Michele had spoken, because he grinned and pulled them both in for a quick hug.

 

***

 

They ended up, of all places, at an Italian restaurant. Which was really more of a _pizzeria_ , in Michele’s eyes. Emil had insisted to try Italian food with them, being tired of borscht and other Russian dishes. Michele and Sara had both winced at the idea of trying it abroad, but had given in to Emil’s insistence, and had settled in a brief exchange, in Italian, that they actually _were_ kind of curious to see how bad the food would be.

Their plates came. _Quattro stagioni_ for Michele, _Prosciutto e funghi_ for Sara and a plain _Margherita_ for Emil, who said it was the best pizza he’d ever tried. Michele and Sara went on a tirade about how bad the cheese was, among other things. “It’s clearly _not_ mozzarella,” said Sara.

“But I like it this way,” was all Emil replied to their critiques, with a calm smile. At this point he was likely just keeping his act to hear them ramble about food as if it was the most important thing in the world. _Well,_ _it kind of is_ , Michele thought.

He was getting tired of Emil watching his sister argue, and he was aware of the way he had noticed how her hand gesturing got more pronounced as she got fired up. He often looked at Michele, too, likely to make sure he was making his intentions with Sara clear. _Not a chance._

They paid and went back out to the cold Russian night. They were all staying at the same hotel, merely five minutes away from the restaurant, and Sara and Emil finally set aside their food talk and settled on the more neutral topic of today’s free skate. Michele tried his best not to separate or interrupt them, but he was also hurt that Sara seemed to be able to interact with other people so easily, whereas he was always an awkward mess. He was happy for her too, and it was all so damn confusing.

Back at the hotel, the male and female athletes were staying in two different floors, so Sara gave Michele a peck on his cheek and waved Emil goodbye, and headed to her floor. A slightly uncomfortable silence fell between the two boys when they noticed they needed to walk in the same direction to reach their rooms.

“You were good today,” said Emil, after having cleared his throat.

“Ah, thanks. You were good too. I mean, we’re all good at this level, but we can’t all win. We’re still better than most of the world population.” This is why he should stick to monosyllabic answers.

Emil only smiled and said, “I’ve got nothing else to do tomorrow, and, well, I was going to watch the female skaters anyway, so do you mind if I come along with you and Sara?”

They had reached room’s door and Michele searched for his key. “Fine.” His tone was nowhere near convincing.

“Hey, if you don’t want me I can go on my own, but you’ll be alone watching Sara otherwise, won’t you? I just thought you might prefer having company.”

Technically, Michele and Sara had their coach, and he was company enough. Also, Michele would only be separated from Sara for a few minutes, while she was skating. But he thought Sara might want this for him. _This._ Whatever it was. Making friends. Interacting with others for more than just technical commentaries on their performances. And whatever it was that Emil was looking for in Sara…Michele didn’t want to think about it, but he knew she was beautiful, and sooner or later someone would take her away from him.

“I said it’s fine. We’ll meet in the lobby at 10 for breakfast.” He didn’t turn around to say goodbye, wishing the evening to be over, but Emil gave him a quick hug from the side, while saying something that sounded an awful lot like _yay._

That was the second surprise-hug Michele received that day, and he kept thinking about how weird it all was until he fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

There was no doubt that the knocking at the door was Sara’s. Michele would recognize it anywhere, even still asleep like he was now. He groaned and kept his eyes half shut while he stood to unlock the door, the room too bright for him. He should have made it darker by closing the curtains, but he had been too tired to do anything other than fling himself on the bed and sleep.  
His muscles were aching pleasantly with the last few days’ strain, but he welcomed Sara’s weight in his arms as she tackle-embraced him after he opened his door.

“Mickeyyy I’m so excited for today!” She said, and threw herself on the bed.

Michele checked the time, and they still had one hour before their appointment with Emil. Which, Michele realized, Sara still didn’t know about.

“I told Emil to have breakfast with us. He wants to come to see you today.”

“You did?” The surprise on Sara’s face was genuine but brief, making way to a sincere smile. “I’m so proud of you, Mickey.”

Michele sat on the bed, not looking at Sara. “I only did it because I know you’re right. It’s not-” he sighed. “I know I act like a fool around other people, but it’s always been just the two of us. I want to be strong for both of us, but I see you’re the strong one between us, and I-”

“Mickey, it’s okay. I know, you don’t have to explain. I know you better than I know myself. We will always be a team, you and I.” She reached to pull him in one of her strength-inducing hugs. “We will meet new people, and we’ll be even stronger than now.”

People didn’t really understand them. They used to make fun of them all the time. It was easy to understand the bond two twins shared when they looked exactly alike. But fraternal twins shared the exact same bond, or at least Michele and Sara did, without the understanding from the outside world that came from seeing them as almost one single identity.

They stayed in his room talking for a while, taking Sara’s mind off the competition for a little bit. It was the way they’d always done it: give themselves half an hour to talk about something other than skating. It was both for distraction’s sake and a bonding time for them, because ice skating was their whole world, but it could be overwhelming if that’s all they talked about. They shared ideas about vacations they could take, or reminisced about school. They usually avoided talking about their family.

When it was almost 10, they went to the lobby, and Emil was already there.

“Mickey! Sara!” He greeted them with a hug, and Michele guessed he must have been getting used to this, because it didn’t feel too weird. _Overexposure_ , he thought.

“ _Buongiorno_ ,” Emil said.

Michele snorted a laugh. “Did you google that?” It was a tricky word, that foreigners rarely got right. There was always too much _g_ and especially too much _i,_ and often not enough _u_.

“Nope, everybody knows _buongiorno_ ,” Emil said with a smug smile.

Michele decided to postpone correcting him, and they went to have breakfast.

***

“Go Sara! You’ll be great, I know it.”

Michele resisted the urge to push Emil far away from his sister. It wasn’t Emil’s fault that he didn’t know that being loud and overly excited wasn’t the right way to support Sara and calm her nerves, but knowing that did little to alleviate his annoyance at the Czech.  
He gave Sara a tight but quick hug and kissed her hair once, and then she was skating towards the center of the ice.  
Michele’s heart pounded  in his chest against his right hand, and he felt Emil’s hand grip his left shoulder tight. Michele spared him a quick look: Emil was looking at Sara with a fond smile.  
She started her free program, and the world vanished around Michele. Well, that wasn’t completely true, because he did feel Emil’s hand release his shoulder and slightly touch Michele’s hand before coming to rest at Emil’s side.

Sara’s performance was almost flawless, and on her final pose Michele felt the roar from the audience in his chest. He couldn’t help but grin and laugh and somehow his arm found his place around Emil’s shoulders. It was slightly uncomfortable, Emil being a bit taller than him, but it felt good.

Emil looked surprised for a second, but he returned his gesture. When he turned to face Michele, his expression changed, and his left hand started darting up and then hesistated. “You have- your face-”

Michele touched his face and his fingers came back glittery. “Oh, it’s Sara’s hair. They always use glitter for it in her performances, and I keep hugging her and kissing it every time anyway.” He regretted saying that much as soon as he did, certain that Emil make fun of him.

Instead, Emil’s smile held no sign of derision when he said, “That’s really sweet, Mickey.”

Michele didn’t know what to make of it, and he was grateful to be distracted by Sara’s arrival. In her arms she held one of the many plushies that someone from the audience had thrown on the ice for her.

Michele got more glitter on his face before they reached the kiss and cry, Emil trailing behind them.

***

“Let’s go and celebrate,” said Emil, cheerful.

Michele found it almost weird that Emil had to say it, because at this point it seemed obvious that they would celebrate, and especially that Emil would be with them.

They had seen the rest of the performances together, Michele seated between Sara and Emil, and then Sara had gone to her rightful place on the podium, and Emil had excused himself, holding his phone to his ear, and disappeared. He had come back five minutes later with a beautiful flower bouquet, that he had given to Sara as soon as she was back with them, silver medal around her neck. A sliver of jealousy hit Michele, but he didn’t say anything, not wanting to sour the mood.

Sara was distracted by some journalists, and Emil came to stand next to Michele again. He produced a single, small blue flower and held it out to him. When he didn’t take it, Emil pinned the flower behind Michele’s ear without a word.

They had been silent while they waited for Sara to change back to normal clothes, and now they were back at the hotel, just long enough for Sara to leave the flowers in her room.

“When are you heading home?” Michele asked, because the silence was getting uncomfortable.

“My flight is tomorrow afternoon,” said Emil.

Michele nodded. “Thanks. For the flowers. Sara loved them.”

“We should keep in touch. I had a half idea to come to Barcelona anyway, even if I wasn’t selected for the GPF. I’m guessing you’re going with Sara, right?”

“I am.” He didn’t know what else to say, so he left it at that.

Sara returned from her room, and they headed out to dinner together for the second night in a row.

_______

 **♥** **katsuki_yuuri, phichit-chu** and **783 others**  
**sara.crispino** #selfie last night with @emnekola and @m.crispino ♥ super excited for Barcelona next! #iceskaters #italiangirl #italianboy #czechboy #friends #twinsies #twins  
**phichit-chu** OoOoOhh fun night? ;)  
**milagirl** can’t wait to see you again sweetie ♥

 **♥** **phichit-chu, sara.crispino** and **246 others**  
**emnekola** #selfie #friendship #myfavetwins #lastnightinrussia #headinghomesoon  
**phichit-chu** @m.crispino that flower suits you ;)  
**c_giacometti** aww you guys look so cute and happy ♥ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try to post one chapter a day because I'm really feeling this fic, I hope it's not too annoying that they are so short but I feel like I can do my best when I post this way instead of a single long-ass chapter. 
> 
> As usual I look forward to your comments ♥


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really shouldn't make any more promises like "I'll post one chapter a day" because honestly I hate disappointing anyone. But hey at least this is now up and I'm only around 12 hours late so it's not that bad!
> 
> I want to thank everyone who commented so far, I'm getting amazing feedback from you and that motivates me so much ♥
> 
> Find me on Twitter: [@cl_pleistocene](https://twitter.com/cl_pleistocene)  
> 

**Sara** : wow Emil that looks incredible!!  
**Emil** : thank you! I had to show you both ^_^  
**Michele** : doesn’t look as impressive as a sunset on the sea  
**Sara** : Mickey #rude!!  
**Emil** : xD it’s ok Sara I get it!  
**Michele** : sorry  
**Emil** : if I come to Barcelona you can show me a *proper* sunset, sea and all ;)

____

 **Emil** : I find a room in your same hotel!!!  
**Emil** : found*  
**Michele** : awesome, didn’t know you had decided for sure! So when will you get there?  
**Emil** : two days before competition starts. you?  
**Michele** : same :)  
  
____

 _  
_ “Is Sara worried?” Emil asked. He had just showed up at Michele’s hotel room right after arriving in Barcelona a couple of hours after them.

“Not yet. She’s not one to get overly anxious.” Michele paused. “I think she was more excited to see her friend Mila than about the competition.”

Emil laughed, and Michele found that his laughter was exactly like he remembered it from one month before.

“Your view is better than mine,” Emil said while peeking out the room’s window. “Want to switch rooms?”

Michele ignored the question, picked up his keys and started walking out, holding the door open for Emil.

“Where are you going?”

“I assumed you wanted to greet Sara.”

“I do, but I’m sure she’s with Mila right now. We should give them some time alone,” said Emil, and he sat on Michele’s bed.

Michele closed the door again and sat next to Emil. They both stared at the room’s fitted carpet in a comfortable silence for a while. Then they started talking, and kept talking until Michele had to switch on the light because the December afternoon had turned dark. They found out travelling made them both tired, even if it was just barely an hour flight (for Michele) and two hours (for Emil), so at some point Emil had lied down belly-up, eyes closed while Michele kept talking, until he too lied down, on his stomach, holding his chin in his hands.

At some point, someone knocked, and Michele realized he had neglected Sara all day since Emil had showed up in his room. He hurried to get the door and Sara and Mila were standing there, their smiles wide.

“Mickey, is Emil he-,” she started.

“Hey Sara! Hi, Mila!” Emil came to the door to embrace the two girls.

They decided to go and eat something simple nearby and get back to the hotel soon, since they were all too tired to try to have a night tour of the town. Michele didn’t know Mila too well, but she had skated often in the same competitions with Sara, and he knew she was one of the few skater friends Sara had kept over the years. He supposed he liked her, and Sara seemed happy whenever she heard from her, even when they were in different parts of the world.

They got some street food that looked authentic and ate it on their way back to the hotel.

“Can I try your sandwich?” Emil asked Michele.

“What? No.” Michele moved it theatrically away from Emil, a little traitorous smirk forming on his lips.

“ _Dai,_ Mickey, let him,” Sara laughed.

Emil cornered Michele between Mila and Sara. The two girls held him steady, and he was laughing when he finally let Emil take a bite.

“I don’t like it,” Emil said with his mouth full, and they all laughed helplessly.

____

 **♥** **m.crispino, phichit-chu** and **865 others**  
**milagirl** Goodnight zZzZzZ  (ph. @m.crispino)  
#barcelona #gpf #love #friendship  
**georgi-p** have fun :*  
**sara.crispino** ♥♥♥ :)  
  
**♥** **phichit-chu, sara.crispino** and **413 others**  
**emnekola** @m.crispino in a rare moment of sexual abandonment with his sandwich  
#barcelona #gpf #wereonlyhereonvacationthough #stolenshot #momentscaptured #italianboy #italianbeauty #thesandwichsuckedbtw  
**m.crispino** WHAT  
**m.crispino** I DID NOT APPROVE OF THIS. DELETE.

_____

The next day they all met for breakfast, well rested and sharing a new familiarity with each other. They greeted and made small talk with the other skaters, some of which were headed to the ice rink to train, and Emil was invited to a tour of the town with some of the female ones, including Mila. Michele and Sara were welcome to come, they said, but the twins had already planned to be on their own and visit the town at their own pace and leisure.

Sara wanted to visit Casa Batlló, but when they got there the police were clearing the area. Apparently, some bag had been left on a bench in front of the Casa, and due to fear of terrorists threats, the bag needed to be set off. Sara was disappointed, but Barcelona had so many other wonderful places that she soon forgot about it. They could still visit it another day.

They ended their sightseeing day at Parc Güell when it was already dark, pausing on the main terrace to look at the panorama, their heads on their chin, mirror images of one another.

“What do you think of Mila?” asked Sara.

“She’s funny.” And then, “You like her.” Michele realized.

Sara smiled. “Yeah.”

Michele wanted to say something, but his phone rang. Sara nodded that they were done with this conversation. He saw Emil’s name on the screen and picked up.

“Hey.”

“Mickey, we’re going to the Christmas market. Where are you two? You should come.”

“Parc Güell. Is there food at the market?”

“Plenty. Come here, we’ll eat something and shop. It’s the perfect place to buy little souvenirs.”

***

“There you are!” Emil’s smile was warm and Michele stared at it for a little longer than he would have one month before. He didn’t have time to process this as Emil handed him a small, soft package. He did the same with Sara.

“What is it?” The twins asked simultaneously, but with different tones. Sara’s was surprised but cheerful, whereas Michele’s was suspicious-sounding.

Emil seemed to notice this difference, because he regarded them both for a second, and then resolved to look at Michele as he said, “Just a little present for you two.”

The twins opened their packages and they found matching woolen gloves.

“I don’t know if it ever gets so cold that you’d need them in Italy, but I figured you should have something warm when you come visit me in Czech Republic.”

“What? I never said that I’d-”

Sara elbowed him, and lowered her voice, even though she spoke in Italian. “ _Mickey, you idiot, he’s inviting you_ now _, okay?_ ”

“ _Oh._ Oh _. Okay. Do you want to go?_ ”

“ _I think the question is if_ you _want to go, you goat.”_

Emil was watching them with an amused, knowing smile. Michele thought there was still something he didn’t understand, but he wouldn’t really mind visiting Emil. And seeing a new country. Yes, that was it, Michele loved travelling, seeing new places.

“Thank you for the gloves, Emil.”

Mila joined them and they ate sweets and drank _vino caliente_. When they passed a stand selling all sorts of winter clothing, Michele stopped and bought a woolen hat, that he wordlessly put in Emil’s hands.

“Wh-”

“It’s cold in Czech Republic.”

Mila and Sara started giggling, and Michele felt himself flush, but Emil pulled him into a hug.

 _How do I always end up being hugged lately?_ Michele asked himself, and wondered if it was only the _vino caliente_ that was to be held accountable for the warmth he felt inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know how you liked this chapter. Are the social media interactions realistic? What about everything else?
> 
> I feel bad for Yuuri's bag of nuts (in case you didn't notice the little cameo) but that's probably how it went. I'm sorry :C
> 
> I finally have the whole outline of this Michemil (I decided that's the ship name I'm going to use from now on) story and that's one of the reasons why I was a bit late to post it. I'm not going to make any promises but the next chapter will be up soon-ish (within a day or two) ♥


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I like this chapter a lot.
> 
> And I love Michele and Emil.
> 
> Find me on Twitter: [@cl_pleistocene](https://twitter.com/cl_pleistocene)  
> 

That day, in the evening, they would watch the men’s short program. It was still morning, and Michele woke up late. It was 11 before he finally showered and went to Sara’s room. She was barely awake and went back to lie on the bed right after letting Michele in.

“I’m too sleepy,” she complained.

“We didn’t even come back late yesterday.”

“No, but I… I was up until late.” Her voice came out strange.

“You’re having trouble sleeping again? Sara… I thought you weren’t anxious about the Grand Prix this time around.” He sat on her bed, concerned. If she wasn’t sleeping right… He didn’t want that to reflect on her performance.

Sara turned her head away from Michele, and he would have thought it just a change in position if it weren’t for the smirk he clearly saw her trying to hide.

“No, it’s just- I stayed up with Mila.” Michele heard the pause in her voice, and he waited for her to continue. His own heart was pounding, along with hers. “Please don’t go all dumb on me now, okay? It’s embarrassing to say it out loud to you, so just take a hint and understand what I’m trying to say here.”

Michele _tried_ not to, he really did. And for a second, he managed. But then a wild laughter escaped him, and because it was so inappropriate, he had to laugh even louder, his abs contracting painfully with each short breath. Sara’s pillow hit him and she was laughing too, relieved. He didn’t need to explain to her that his laughter was expression of sincere happiness for her.

If she was happy, he was happy.

When he managed to take a slightly longer breath, he tried to ask, “So you played cards?” But only half of the sentence came out intelligible, before the laughing fit got the best of him again.

“ _Idiota,”_ was all Sara said, covering her face.

Inevitably, their laughing died down, and Michele pulled Sara to himself. They stayed like that for a bit, Michele playing distractedly with her long hair, her head on his shoulder. He tried to summon a bit of his usual protectiveness, but he didn’t find any within himself. He hoped that meant that Mila was right for his sister.

 

***

 

They met Emil and Mila for lunch, and spent the afternoon with them, enjoying a walk around the town that brought them on the promenade. It was around five when the sun was setting, the weather was nice, and Michele felt better than he had in a long time. His sister had held hands with Mila unselfconsciously, and Emil had silently acknowledge the change in behavior with his usual smile. Michele wondered if he had picked up on something the days before, even before Michele himself had.

They paused to admire the sunset, Mila and Sara seeking a little bit of privacy a few meters away.

“So. This is it,” said Emil.

“’It’?”

“You promised me a sunset on the sea.” Emil nudged Michele’s elbow.

Michele snorted. “I don’t exactly recall promising anything.”

“No. I do seem to have to extrapolate things out of you, don’t I?”

Michele was silent. He didn’t know where this was going.

They took photos of the sunset, as it was indeed beautiful. December sunsets were always impressive.

After a while, Emil asked, “How do you say ‘sunset’ in Italian?”

Michele raised an eyebrow, but said, “ _’Tramonto’._ ”

Emil tested it on his tongue, carefully, as he would with a fine wine. He tried drawing out the _a_ first, but Michele corrected him. He didn’t know why, but this felt so intimate. He liked the way his language came out of Emil’s mouth.

“How do you say it in Czech?”

“ _’_ _Západ slunce_ ’.”

Michele seemed to have a harder time with Czech than Emil had with Italian, but eventually he got it right.

Mila and Sara joined them again, and together they made their way back to the hotel, before heading out again to see the men’s skate.

____

**♥** **m.crispino, sara.crispino** and **398**  
**emnekola** #tramonto  
**sara.crispino** aww **♥**  
  
**♥** **emnekola, sara.crispino** and **264 others**  
**m.crispino** #zapadslunce  
**emnekola** :) **♥**

____

  
“Good luck, Yuuri!” Emil shouted.

At the same time, Sara wondered out loud next to Michele, “Why matching rings?”

Emil shrugged as if it was obvious, while Michele said, mostly to himself, “I wish I had one with Sara.”

Emil gave him a weird look, as if Michele had said something bad. He asked _What?_ by raising his hands, palms up, and Emil leaned in to whisper the only possible explanation for Katsuki and Nikiforov’s matching rings in his ears.

“Oh,” was all Michele said. _Am I really that fucking dense?_ He kept embarrassing himself, most of all in front of Emil, and he realized it made him look as if he were a 22-year-old virgin. He was.  
Emil didn’t seem to mock him though, and his smile was genuine when he patted Michele’s knee, as if to say, _Whenever you need an explanation, I got your back._

They watched the rest of the programs. At some point Katsuki and Nikiforov joined them, then Plisetsky, who asked, “Oi, where’s Mila?”, after they had watched Otabek Altin perform.

It was Sara who answered, saying her girlfriend wanted an evening away from ice skating, since they were going to perform their short program the next day. She had preferred staying at the hotel with a book.

At the end, they said their congratulations to every skater, even though JJ was nowhere to be found after his underwhelming performance.

Emil had previously invited both Michele and Sara to a club, but Sara preferred to go back to the hotel and sleep early. They accompanied her and found their way to a nearby club that Emil had googled earlier that day.

Michele realized on the way, stupidly late, that they were going to a club alone. Maybe it was better to say that he only now realized what it meant being alone with Emil. In a foreign city. In a _club_. What if he couldn’t hold the conversation with him? What if Emil found someone else to talk to and ditched him?

His thoughts were forced away from him when they entered the loud club. They left their coats and sweatshirts at the entrance. There wasn’t a free table, so they made their way to the bar. They waited around for their drinks, a bit awkwardly, and at some point Michele was pushed into Emil by some other customer too eager to place his order. Emil held him steady, a bit surprised, with one hand on Michele’s waist.

“Sorry.”

“No worries,” Emil smiled, releasing him.

Their drinks arrived, and after they’d drunk them Michele found his own embarrassment for the whole situation subside. The conversation flowed more smoothly than he ever thought it had, and they took a few selfies to show Sara later, never mind that the lighting was awful. A song came on that Emil loved, and he practically begged Michele to join him on the dance floor. Michele couldn’t exactly say he didn’t know how to dance, it’s just he had never done so without skates on his feet. But he found that he didn’t mind trying something new, and he let Emil lead him by his hand.

By the time they got there, the song was at its peak, the rhythm heady, and Emil was almost pressed against him as they danced. Michele’s movements were awkward at first, not knowing how to work his feet without the ice underneath him. He slowly figured out that some moves he knew could be done on this floor as well, he just needed to move slightly differently. Emil seemed better experienced at this than he was, and he led him through the next song and the next, their moods changing with the music.

Even in thin T-shirts, they were both sweating by the time the fourth song came on. Emil didn’t seem to mind though, and kept twirling Michele and seeking his proximity whenever the music allowed for it. Michele didn’t know how long they danced, but by the time they were too exhausted to continue, the dance floor was almost empty, and Emil was the first to admit he felt like going back to the hotel.

They got their clothes and went out in the chilly night. They kept bursting into laughter without anything prompting it, and Emil couldn’t walk without actually keeping dancing, which brought Michele to join him. They hadn’t drunk enough alcohol to be drunk, but Michele felt drunk with _something_. If he thought about it, the music came to mind. The dancing, too. With those memories came other ones, unfiltered, like Emil’s scent, or his hands holding him steady after a too-long twirl.

They reached the hotel, and on the elevator Emil silently gestured for Michele to join him in a last dance move they had improvised earlier that evening, and perfected with each song. It seemed the one where their bodies were touching the most and the longest, but it felt different now with their coats on. Something like disappointment brushed against Michele’s heart, but then they were out of the elevator, and heading towards their rooms. Michele’s was first, so they paused in front of it.

Emil caught his hand in his and simply said, “ _Buonanotte._ ”

“Goodnight,” Michele’s voice almost caught.

When he saw Emil disappear inside his own room at the end of the hallway, the thought hit him that he should research _goodnight_ in Czech.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -I hope I didn't butcher the Czech.
> 
> -I'm so happy Mila and Sara got together ♥
> 
> -I have no idea how to describe the dancing so maybe it's all a little vague.
> 
> -The got-pushed-into-Emil-thing I totally stole from the Foxhole Court because that's all I think about whenever I hear the word _club_
> 
>    
> -It's fucking 4 am again and I can't make these notes anything better than this, yay.  
> 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I’m sorry that this took long-ish. I’ve been distracted by the holidays and family coming over. I hope this chapter was worth waiting for.  
> A huge THANK YOU to Glacy and Carade, who have been extremely helpful sharing info about Czech Republic and the Czech language. I didn’t get to use much of it here, but I will in the next chapter(s). It means so much to me that you were willing to help out a complete stranger ♥
> 
> Find me on Twitter: [@cl_pleistocene](https://twitter.com/cl_pleistocene)  
> 

The day of the ladies’ short program, Michele’s first thought as he woke up wasn’t about his sister, whether she was nervous or needed his silent support. Instead, his mind went to blue eyes and ashy blond hair, and if he had thought about it rationally, he might have been surprised that his reaction was to smile, his eyes still closed. But Michele didn’t think, and kept smiling until his alarm rang. He thought of Sara then, and hurried up to meet her for breakfast.

When he arrived, Mila was at the table she and Sara had occupied, holding a seat for Michele and Emil like they had done the previous mornings. Sara was filling her plate at the breakfast buffet. Michele greeted Mila and they exchanged a few words until Sara came back with her plate full. He went to get his food too.

It was clear that the two girls were tense for the competition, and Michele wondered for the first time how it would be for them, to compete against each other while being together. He wasn’t sure whether the tension came from that or the competition alone.

“How was the club yesterday?” Mila asked.

“Oh, it was fun. Very full.” His eyes wandered distractedly in search of Emil.

When they were almost done eating, Sara asked if he and Emil had any plans for the day, since she and Mila were going to go through their preparations before the evening.

“I don’t know. I thought I could come with you, like always.”

“Nonsense. We talked about this. You should enjoy your time here. Besides, you don’t really want to leave Emil on his own.” He heard her unspoken words: _I have Mila now. Let me be alone with her, for the little time we have before we head back to Italy._

He told her he’ll find something to do.

Emil still hadn’t showed up, so when it was time for the girls to go, Michele hugged both and went to see what he was up to. He was just raising his hand to knock on Emil’s bedroom door when it opened, and the two stared, startled, at each other.

“Hey,” they said at the same time.

“I’m sorry I was late for breakfast. I snoozed the alarm twice and then still managed to fall asleep.”

“It’s okay. Mila and Sara were in a hurry, otherwise they would have waited for you.”

“Come in. Were they nervous?”

Michele entered Emil’s room, shrugging at the question. “Yeah. I guess competing against each other has to be confusing.”

Michele took in the signs that made this Emil’s room. A wristwatch laid on the night stand, a coat discarded on a chair, his suitcase open on the floor. Tourist guides of Barcelona lying atop not-so-neatly folded clothes made him cringe a little. He asked, “What do you want to do today?”

Emil looked at him for a second, as if he wasn’t expecting that question.

“I’m not sure. I thought I’d go for a run first thing.”

“I’ll join you. If you want,” Michele said. He was craving the physical exercise.

 

_***_

 

They ended their run with a slow jog into Parc de la Ciutadella. It was warm for being December, so they weren’t in a hurry to get back to the hotel. They paused at the top of the stairs of the monument looking down at the central fountain.

Emil asked him about Sara, and that was one topic Michele could talk about forever. It was inevitable that he talked about himself in the process, and when part of him realized it, he allowed himself a brief moment to wonder if that was what Emil had been trying to achieve all along. Or maybe to hope that he had.

 

***

 

After the women’s short program, when they all went back to the hotel late in the evening, the tension coming from both girls was palpable. Sara was currently in fourth place, and Mila second. Michele didn’t exactly understand how their relationship was going to be affected by their results this evening and especially the next, when their free skating would seal their positions until the next competition.

Sara dragged Michele to her room for their ritual post-skating hot chocolate, and Michele assumed that meant Mila wasn’t going to sleep in her room tonight. They lay on the bed and watched TV for a while (it was in Spanish, but they understood most of it), until Sara fell asleep. Michele gently took the remote from her hand and switched the TV off. He wondered if he should just sleep there like they did when they were kids, when he noticed the LED light on his phone was blinking, and he hurried to reply. After a minute or two, he headed back to his room smiling.

____  
**Emil** : did you go to the club without me? :C  
**Michele** : ??  
**Emil** : you’re not in your room  
**Michele** : I’m in Sara’s  
**Michele** : She just fell asleep  
**Emil** : come back here i have a surprise :)  
____

Emil was sitting outside Michele’s room with a small flat package. Michele looked at it a bit suspiciously. Emil noticed him and sat up, smile wide.

“What’s the surprise?”

“Chocolate. _Shareable_ chocolate. Preferably with me.”

“So you bought yourself chocolates but are pretending to give them to me?” They entered Michele’s room.

“No, I bought chocolates because everyone loves chocolate, and it seemed like a good excuse to show up at your room.”

Michele tried to ignore that last part. “I just had hot chocolate with Sara, but you can eat them.” And then, because the corners of Emil’s mouth were curving dangerously downwards, “In my room,” he added.

Emil’s face went back to its normally cheerful state and he started opening the chocolate box.

“So, are you sure you don’t want any?”

“I told you, I’ve just had hot chocolate.”

Emil nodded, his mouth now full, and said, “ _Cioccolato caldo._ ”

Michele, who was in the process of sitting on the carpeted floor at Emil’s feet, blinked once, and looked up at Emil with a question on his face.

“I did my research.”

Michele ignored the little jump his heart made at the thought of Emil looking up words in his language, and decided that correcting him was _definitely_ not about trying to distance himself from what Emil was trying to do. “Actually, it’s _cioccolata calda_.”

Emil stopped for a second, then deliberately put a second chocolate in his mouth, his eyes locked on his. That made Michele laugh, but then Emil slid off the bed to sit on the floor, face to face with him. Their legs were awkward masses, denim on denim, but what Michele saw ( _wished?)_ for a second was _muscle on muscle_. He looked back up and Emil hadn’t seem to notice anything or to feel uncomfortable.

Emil started teaching Michele _horká čokoláda_ and other words in Czech, and when the chocolate box was almost empty, he took a longer breath and said, “I’ve been wanting to tell you something for a while.”

Michele went very still as Emil’s mouth approached his face, and for a second he imagined it touching his, but the trajectory was wrong.

“ _Sei bellissimo,_ ” Emil whispered in his ear.

It was only his language, but it sounded like poetry to Michele.

And then what he had imagined seconds earlier finally, finally happened. It wasn’t the first kiss that got to him. It was the second one, their lips parting and wet, Emil’s chocolate-sweet. He felt Emil not daring to touch him, afraid perhaps that he might scare him, but when Michele’s hand went to the soft hair on Emil’s nape -a wordless permission- Emil’s hands moved too, and drew him closer, chest to chest.

The kiss had started soft and slow, but it had deepened at some point. So it surprised Michele when it became slow and soft again, as if they were in no rush, as if they wouldn’t part ways again in a couple of days.

They tried to stop for breath without success three times before Emil gently started brushing Michele’s jaw with the back of his fingers, and it was suddenly more important to Michele to watch Emil’s face while he touched him than it was to keep kissing him.

They kept gazing at one another, panting lightly, their noses almost touching, while Emil’s fingers kept tracing Michele’s face.

“Emil,” started Michele, but he hadn’t thought of how to continue.

Emil didn’t give him time to find something to say. He joined their lips one more time in a concluding manner before he started standing up, helping Michele to do the same.

“Mickey. I know this is confusing for you.”

“It’s not confusing, it’s-”

“Mickey,” Emil repeated. “I’ve come to know you. If you don’t feel confused right now, you will be. Tonight, in the morning. So I’m giving you one day to sort it through.”

Michele almost gasped. “One day,” he said.

“One day. Then you will tell me where you want this to go.”

Then he left, and Michele thought that this, _this_ was exactly why he didn’t feel confused. That Emil saw through him at the point that he knew what Michele needed was enough to make his answer clear. But he would wait one more day. He just needed-

He rushed outside. “Emil,” he called, trying to not sound petty or desperate, right when Emil was about to disappear in his room down the hallway. Emil turned.

“ _Dobrou noc_ ,” Michele said. And then he made it a point to be the first to go back inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, now I feel like chocolate.  
> I edited this chapter a trizillion of times before I was somewhat satisfied with it.  
>  _Sei bellissimo_ = you're (very) beautiful  
>  _Dobrou noc_ = goodnight  
> I think I forgot to mention it in the previous chapters but your comments give me life so please don’t let me die and keep them coming kthxbai ♥


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm **so** sorry that took forever. But I hope it was worth it??
> 
> I've added a few tags to fit this story better. They're still a mess but what can I do.  
> I started getting headcanons for both Michele's and Emil's sexuality so I tried to write them into this story as delicately and respectfully (especially for Michele) as I could. I'm not a member of the demi or the bi community so please if something doesn't fit let me know in the comments. Just, don't ask me to mention these labels in my work because this is set in the YOI universe where labels aren't used (at least as of season1-canon).
> 
> About the actual skating parts, I looked up the timetable of the GPF (I'm sorry I've never followed ice skating before YOI) and it turns out the women skate their free program right before the men, so that's how I wrote it here. I assume the award ceremony follows the men's skating for both the men an the women (but I haven't written it here because it's Michele's story), but I hope this is accurate.
> 
> Things are about to get **nsfw** so like...you've been warned I guess? If you don't want to read that last part you can just skip it and read the next chapter (whenever that'll be up).

_Did I pronounce it right? Did I_ remember _it right?_ _Did I just make a fool out of myself, blurting out Czech words I’d only read on Google Translate?_

These questions kept nagging at Michele for two minutes after he went to lie on his bed, before the full realization of what happened hit him. He’d just been kissed by Emil Nekola. He’d just been kissed for the first time in his life by Emil _fucking_ Nekola. His body caught up with his mind and he felt his heart race and his smile widen (he recalled starting to smile as soon as he had closed the door behind him).

He should have been freaking out. He should have been focusing on Sara’s free skate the next day. Instead, he was strangely calm as for the first time he allowed himself to explore the fondness he had started to feel for this man. _This boy_ , his brain corrected him. Emil was a few years younger than him, but he felt so much more mature than him. At least when it came to…relationships stuff. Michele was sure he’d had at least one girlfriend before, or so he’d heard him say in the locker room in a past competition. He didn’t think Emil would lie about something like that. He didn’t think Emil would lie about anything.

He traced his lips with his finger, then with his tongue. He could still taste the sweetness of Emil’s mouth on his. He wanted to taste him all. Touch him all. He didn’t understand why he had never had these thoughts about anyone else, but he could no longer deny that the past few nights had been a confusing mess in his brain. He only knew it had all started happening after he started to get to know Emil, and it seemed like the more Emil shared about himself, the more Michele felt attracted to him. _Really_ attracted to him. The thought alone was enough to confuse him about a lot of things, about himself, but…what he wanted was perfectly clear. Emil thought he was confused about what they had just done, what it meant for their future to possibly start a relationship, but he was wrong. Michele _wanted_ a relationship with him, as sudden and scary as it might seem. When he closed his eyes, he played the kiss in his head again and again, and didn’t know how anyone would be confused about _that_.

With the kiss, came inevitable the memory of what happened next. Maybe it should have frustrated Michele that Emil had kissed him and then given him one day to think it through, and just assumed that Michele _must_ have been confused. But he saw it for what it was: Emil had given him a choice, and even though he had been wrong about _what_ confused Michele, it was clear that he cared about him enough and respected him enough to not expect him to make a decision on a whim while drunk on his first kiss.

 

***

 

Michele spent his day with Sara, helping her getting mentally and physically prepared for her free program. He had seen Emil at breakfast, and they had acted normally in front of the girls, even though Michele felt like he was holding a huge _I GOT MY FIRST KISS_ sign above his head.

Emil showed up again when the women’s free skating was about to start. He handed him a paper cup -hot chocolate, _of course_ \- before sitting down next to him. They watched the women and commented on their performances, and they cheered for Mila when it was her turn. Before Sara’s program, Michele went to hug her good luck, and then to the kiss and cry, while Emil held seats for them.

When all the women had skated, it was the men’s turn, and they sat together, Mila and Sara holding each other. Finally the tension of the competition was gone, and thankfully they had both gotten a medal (bronze for Sara and gold for Mila). Michele was relieved and hoped things would go smoothly for them, now that they could explore their new relationship without the pressure of the competition. Sara’s happiness was one of his priorities, but he realized now that it didn’t depend on him anymore. And he realized he had new priorities, too.

He paid close attention when it was time for Katsuki Yuuri to skate. He watched him exchange words with his coach -no, his _fiancé_ \- before they hugged tight for a few long seconds, their shoulders shaking in what seemed from this distance like a laughing-crying fit.

Katsuki’s performance was just astounding. Michele didn’t think he read too much into it when he thought that his performance was a message for Victor Nikiforov. What exactly it meant, he didn’t fully understand, but as Katsuki ended his program, his hand reaching out across the ice to where Nikiforov, awestruck, stood, Michele felt a surge of warmth in his chest, while warm tears began flowing from his eyes. _That is what love looks like._

As the audience went crazy, he felt Emil’s arm around him, pulling him closer, while he shouted words of support and admiration for Katsuki. Michele didn’t think he realized in that moment that they were still ( _fortunately not for long_ , he thought) on their 24-hour pause, because Emil had been very respectful of it so far, but this had been an emotional moment for everyone, and if he were being perfectly honest, he had almost reached to take Emil’s hand before remembering their deal. He cherished his closeness until Emil seemed to remember himself and pulled away mumbling an apology.

 

***

 

After the award ceremony, Sara and Mila were headed to the banquet. Michele and Emil were both invited, but a quick glance at one another had them both decide they had more pressing matters.

Instead of going to the banquet, they went to a small, quiet Spanish restaurant, where Michele would have felt embarrassed to be together with Emil just the day before. No, embarrassed wasn’t the right word perhaps. It was just that he now felt comfortable being alone with him in this intimate space.

They had only exchanged a few words since they entered the restaurant, but Michele decided it was time to change the atmosphere. The 24-hour mark was almost up, anyway.

“So. Can I count this as our official first date?”

Emil seemed to almost choke on his gazpacho. “I… That is- Do you want it to be?”

Michele held eye contact with him. “Yes.”

He moved his hand to reach for Emil’s where it was resting on the table, but at the same time Emil moved his, so their hands bumped into each other mid-air in an awkward way. They laughed and averted their eyes from each other, while adjusting their grip. Emil’s hand was slightly bigger than his, and Michele spent a good minute studying it.

He looked up again when he heard Emil make an amused sound. He was looking at the flowers in the middle of the table.

“Remember when I gave you that flower at the Rostelecom cup?”

“Yeah, from Sara’s bouquet.”

“Is it stupid that I only bought it to impress you?” Emil caught himself before letting Michele reply. “Not that- I really like Sara and I was really cheering for her, but I mostly wanted to impress you, and being extra polite to her seemed like the right step.”

Michele snorted a laugh. “I didn’t know you knew me so well even back then.” Then: “Actually, if you’d known me at all you’d have known that I was jealous of you. I thought you were hitting on her.”

Emil snickered. “Silly. I only wanted _you_ since that time you beat me to bronze at the Europeans.” He said it with an amused voice, but the air around them shifted to accommodate to the seriousness of what he had just said.

“Emil, I… I never- I should have-” he trailed off.

“Stop it.” Emil brought Michele’s fingers to his lips and kissed them softly. “You don’t apologize for not noticing. Or not returning my feelings right away, or anything like that.”

“I just need you to know I’m not confused about my feelings now. Nor was I last night. But thank you. For giving me time to figure it out.”

They finished their dinner made their way back to the hotel, holding hands and kissing.

 

***

 

Emil was on top of him, trailing soft kisses along his jaw while Michele tried not to combust before anything actually _happened_ between them. He traced slow lines along the muscles on Emil’s bare back, savoring the feeling of skin on skin.

They had come back to the hotel and gone to Emil’s room, to his _bed_ , and Michele was now encompassed by Emil’s scent, on the bed sheets, on Emil’s skin, on _himself_.

Emil’s hand trailed his chest, his stomach, and stopped above the elastic band of his boxers.

Emil’s mouth was on his again. “Mickey. I want you,” he said on his lips.

“Have me.”

That made Emil pause, as if he hadn’t expected the effect those words had on him, as he hadn’t realized until now what he’d been asking. When he kissed Michele again, it was with renewed hunger. “I- Mickey. _Miláčku._ ”

Michele wasn’t about to interrupt _this_ to ask him what that meant, and he hoped he would get many more occasions to find out. With a careful but decisive movement he flipped Emil so that he was now on top of him, and removed his boxers.

Michele had never thought he would be doing this with anyone. He had never felt the urges that everybody seemed to have. Sure, he took care of his own physical needs, but that was all he’d ever done and wanted to do. He’d never imagined it with another person, boy or girl. So it had come as a surprise to him when he first had started having dreams about Emil, or seeing his face _-his body-_ when he was touching himself in the month after the Rostelecom cup, after he had gotten to know Emil a little better and gotten an interest in him. Not that it had been easy to admit to himself, being that it was the first time. He didn’t understand why it had taken him twenty-two years to have his first crush, but he wasn’t going to question it now that he had Emil fully naked under him.

“Mickey, you’re so- I never thought you’d want things to move so quickly.”

Michele had discarded the boxers and was on his way to kiss Emil again, but stopped at that. Had he misunderstood Emil’s intentions?

Emil seemed to read his mind and, while cupping his head with both hands, said, “I can see you freaking out, _miláčku._ I want you, but most of all I want you to feel comfortable.” He paused briefly, just the time it took to kiss Michele again. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Michele’s answer was to give him a little smirk and reach down to take off his own boxers. Emil’s pulled him close to himself again and Michele experience a whole new spectrum of sensations as their lengths pressed against each other. Emil kissed him again, slower, and began moving under him. Michele thought he would be undone by this friction alone, but it was only a matter of seconds before Emil had him on his back again.

Michele almost recoiled when he realized what was about to happen. The sight of Emil between his spread legs was exquisite, and the first brush of his mouth against his cock had him close his eyes because this was too much, and he might not know everything there was to know about sex and pleasure, but he knew that he wanted to enjoy this for as long as he could.

Every inch that Emil took into his mouth, every flick of his tongue felt like a golden medal. Most of the pleasure wasn’t purely physical, though. It was knowing that _Emil_ was here with him, doing this with and to him, that almost brought him to reach his climax. _Not yet,_ he thought, and brushed Emil’s hair where it had fallen on his face in a silent, gentle plea to stop.

Emil came up and kissed him so gently, as if he hadn’t had his cock in his mouth just a few seconds earlier.

“Wait here,” Emil said, and walked to the suitcase that laid open on the floor. Michele saw him retrieve a plastic bottle -lube, he realized, and felt himself blush.

Emil went back on the bed and Michele asked him, “Do you have- is that all you have?”

“Mickey, I have condoms, but I’m not going to fuck you.”

“What? Why?”

“Have you ever been fucked?” asked Emil specifically. Michele hadn’t, and Emil said, “I’m not going to put my cock in you today, Mickey. I want you to feel good, and I want to get there with you eventually, but I think for the first time it’s enough if you just let me- if you just let me in at all.”

Maybe Michele should have protested, but in truth he was grateful to Emil. He would have gone all the way if he’d asked, but for a virgin who’d _just_ found out that he _did_ in fact want to get physical with another person, doing _anything_ was going to be a huge deal already.

There was more kissing and more reassuring from both parts that they were both okay not going all the way, but that didn’t mean they were going to stop at kissing. Michele told Emil what he wanted be done to him, and Emil seemed pleasantly surprised by his being so vocal about his wishes.

He put some lube on his fingers and sprawled beside Michele, in a way that he could both easily reach inside him and watch over him, for his reaction. He placed a kiss on Michele’s forehead.

“Relax,  _lásko_.”

Then he reached for Michele’s entrance with one lubed finger. Michele tensed at the initial discomfort, but relaxed when Emil paused at his reaction.

“Are you all right? We can stop anytime.”

“Please, I want you to continue.”

And so Emil continued, gently, until his finger was all in, and kissed him while at the same time massaging inside him. It felt like nothing Michele had ever felt, and the more Emil massaged him, all the while whispering sweet breathed words in his ear, the more this feeling spread, from the top of his thighs, through his groin and- oh god, it felt incredible.

“ _Oddio_ \- Emil, please.”

Emil shifted so that he was kneeling between Michele’s legs and started stroking himself while he kept fingering him. He looked like he couldn’t decide what sight delighted him the most, his eyes trying to take all of Michele in at once.

Soon they were both close to climaxing, and Michele couldn’t resist taking himself into his hand when he felt like he couldn’t hold on any longer.

“ _Ah, sì_ , Emil-”

He came with a soft moan, refusing to close his eyes. He wanted to see Emil finish himself off, visibly fueled by the sight of his orgasm. He was rewarded a few seconds later by the sweet sight of Emil reaching his own climax, one finger, unmoving, still inside of him.

Emil came down to lie on Michele’s side when the waves of the orgasm subsided. They lied there wordlessly for a few minutes, heads turned towards each other, their pupils still dilated, before Emil stood up and came back with a towel that Michele thought he would give him. Instead, Emil sat down on the bed and started carefully wiping him clean. Michele could see affection show through his gestures, and felt the fondness for this man grow in his heart. Emil finished cleaning them both, threw the towel on the floor and came to snuggle beside him. When they were both cold, they covered themselves with the blanket resting at the foot of the bed and fell asleep in each other’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow okay I originally wanted to do a fade-to-black thing and not straight-up smut but things got out of hand _*insert dirty joke here*_  
>  Anyway, that was my very first smut scene so be kind??
> 
> Okay **I have a question for you all.** Next chapter will be the last for Michele and Emil's story, but I'm lowkey thinking that after that I could add a bonus chapter for Mila and Sara's story, specifically about the night they got together (between chapters 3 and 4 of this fic). I didn't start writing it yet so I'd like to hear your feedback on it first: **should I write the bonus Mila+Sara chapter? Yay or Nay?**


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...long time no see I guess?
> 
> Guys I've been awful and I know it's been forever but a ton of shit has happened in my life. Like bad shit. I know it's all excuses and I could have tried to update it sooner, but even though the chapter was basically ready, I really couldn't get myself to even look at it until I was kind of in a better place. I hope you all understand. 
> 
> Anyway.
> 
> This is the final chapter of my Michemil, and I really hope it's a decent conclusion to it. 
> 
> Find me on Twitter: [@cl_pleistocene](https://twitter.com/cl_pleistocene)  
> 

Soft hair tickled Michele’s nose as he drifted away from sleep, hair he knew being a dark shade of blond without opening his eyes. The world was silent except for two sets of breaths, Emil’s slow ones and Michele’s slightly faster ones, now that he was almost fully awake.

Waking up to the warmth of someone else’s body was just another one of the many things Michele still hadn’t done in his life. Not until now, but he had the feeling Emil had started a chain of events that would bring him many other _firsts_.

The arm that wasn’t under Emil’s neck was resting across Emil’s torso, and when he instinctively moved it to stretch sleep out of his system, he couldn’t help but let his hand trace Emil’s very much naked body.

He almost regretted it when Emil stirred, the first sign that he was starting to wake, but he forgot any thoughts of letting him sleep a bit longer when Emil let out a little sleepy moan. He wanted to hear every variation of that sound that Emil could make.

“Good morning,” he said with his face still in Emil’s hair. He planted a little kiss there for good measure.

Emil’s hand found his under the blanket and held it tight after having brought it up to his lips. The gesture was so simple and sweet that Michele didn’t know what he could do next to not disturb its memory. He held his body tight and used his nose to move the hair that was covering Emil’s ear so that he could kiss it. Emil turned slightly to allow him better access.

“ _Buongiorno_.”

Michele let out a little amused breath. “I could get used to this.”

“Waking up together?”

“That, and you speaking Italian.”

“I knew you’d like it.” He turned completely in his arms and kissed Michele on his lips. “I’ve been meaning to seduce you with some smooth Italian pick-up lines, but I seem to have forgotten all of them the moment we met again here in Barcelona.”

Those were more words than Michele had ever spoken or wanted to hear first thing in the morning, but coming from Emil they didn’t bother him. In fact, he had his full attention now.

“What do you mean? Did you learn them before coming here?”

“Yeah. After the Rostelecom Cup I tried to learn a bit of Italian, because I knew we’d be meeting here.”

“But you weren’t even sure if you would come.”

“Oh. That. I…actually bought the flight and booked the room right away. And then pretended not to have decided yet because I didn’t want to seem desperate.”

“Oh my god.” Michele couldn’t help but laugh at that. “You idiot.”

Emil nudged his chest lightly, pouting theatrically. “Shut up. That wasn’t the point. The point is, I started learning Italian because I’m a desperate fool.”

Michele tried to wipe away his grin without success. “How did you learn? And what?”

Emil shrugged. “With an app. And now I can’t remember much of it anyway. You heard some of it the past few days.”

“Well, I can teach you. If you’d like.”

“I’d love it, Mickey.”

They began their Italian and Czech lessons right then. Naming the different parts of their bodies in both their languages was sweet at first, but it soon became a sexy game that they continued playing under a hot shower.

 

***

 

Shower sex had seemed easier in movies. Not that Michele had ever paid much attention to it, but he couldn’t help feeling slightly deceived. Still, he supposed he shouldn’t complain, since it had worked out in the end. He felt himself blush at the thought of what he had done in Emil’s shower, and what Emil had done to him. He still couldn’t quite believe there was so much people could do without having full penetrative sex.

He tried to wipe the grin off his face as he reached Sara’s room. It didn’t seem right to have this conversation with Sara yet, but they were leaving Barcelona the next morning and he didn’t want to pretend like nothing had happened between Emil and himself. He wanted to hold his hand in public. He wanted to mention him in passing until people found it weird when he wasn’t talking about his boyfriend. He wanted Emil over for Sunday lunches with his _nonna_ filling his plate until even she realized it was way too much. He wanted Emil to become a steady part of his life, and the first step was telling Sara about them.

As he knocked at her door, he had half a thought that Mila might be in there with her, but he figured if he wasn’t welcome his sister would just tell him so.

“What’s wrong with your face?” Was Sara’s greeting.

The thing about being twins was that you didn’t have to be nice to each other the whole time.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“I’m asking you, you look like Seung-gil fell face-first on the ice and you’re trying not to laugh.”

“I wouldn’t _laugh_ -”

“We both know you would.”

There was no sign that Mila was in the room, even though the bed looked suspiciously like two people had slept in it.

“Mila went to treat Yuri Plisetsky to breakfast, she said gold medalists should celebrate together.”

Michele looked for bitterness in her voice, but found none. Still, he asked, “Is it weird for you?”

“No. He’s like a little brother for her.”

“ _Uff._ You know what I mean. Her winning gold.”

Sara shook her head. “No, it’s not weird. I’m happy for her. I would have liked to win silver, but she deserved gold more than anyone. She’s so dedicated, Mickey.”

“We all are.”

“I know. But she’s something more. Special.”

Michele smiled. He wasn’t sure they were talking about skating anymore. She was talking from the bathroom, where she was washing her face. Michele watched her come back to the room, blotting her face dry with a towel, and knew there was more she wanted to say. He gestured for her to sit next to him on the bed.

“Mickey. I think I love her.”

Michele nodded slightly. “Have you told her?”

“Not yet. Yesterday, at the banquet, I wanted to. But I don’t know if it’s too soon.”

It was weird, he thought, that even when they started to be more independent of each other they should still go through similar feelings. He was so completely new at all of this that he had no idea if his feelings for Emil were _love_. But it certainly felt like it.

“Just tell her when you feel comfortable. You don’t have to say it right away, even if you’re sure it’s love.” There it was, good advice for both of them.

“I guess you’re right.” She reached for her phone on the nightstand, scrolled quickly through the notifications, sneaking expectant quick looks towards him while he fidgeted with his shirt, until she seemed to lose her patience. “Well?” She asked.

“Um. I came to tell you something.”

“Does it have to do with why you weren’t in your room earlier?”

“I- Uhm-”

“I came to check in on you but nobody answered the door. Not like I was expecting to find you there alone, but I didn’t feel like disturbing you at Emil’s.”

“Sara!”

“What, am I wrong?”

“Mh. No.” He supposed another thing about being twins was that hiding stuff from each other was almost impossible.

“Hah!”

Michele glared at her.

“I’m sorry, that wasn’t nice. But _oh my god_ Mickey, finally! Mila and I were running a bet on you two.”

“Stop it.”

“It’s true. She bet nothing would happen until next time you met again. I told her the tension was already too high and it would happen this week or never.” She squeezed his hand and kissed him on his cheek. “I’m happy for you, Mickey.”

The thing about twins, or at least about Michele and Sara, was that they were always honest with each other.

 

***

 

Emil and Michele watched the gala together that evening. Sara skated to a [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BI_0HIz_4JY) that had a lot to do with sexual love. It was fitting, Michele thought. Her costume was a rainbow of colors and shapes that sparkled whenever the lights hit them.

The gala was one of the most entertaining ones Michele had ever seen. The highlight was when Yuuri Katsuki was joined on the ice by Victor Nikiforov on the notes of an Italian duet that Michele was pretty sure had only been an aria when Nikiforov used it for his program last season. He wondered if the story it told was one the two skaters could directly relate to, but there was no way of finding out.

The tone changed completely when Yuri Plisetsky, gold medalist and last one to perform, skated to a metal song that was a complete one-eighty from both his short and free program. Despite this, he was perfectly versatile and confident in his movements, and the difficulty level of his performance was almost as high as the one of his other programs. Michele was both fascinated and scared of him, because he was a fierce competitor and Michele would have to work ten times as hard if he ever wanted to come close to his level. There was only a little less than two months until Europeans and he was already worrying about it, but another thought had his heart skip a beat. He glanced sideways at Emil, seated next to him, and for a second it was enough to know they’d meet again soon.

 

***

 

 

They were lying in bed, spent, tired but unwilling to sleep off the last few hours they had together. Michele’s flight was going to be very early next morning and there was still so much they wanted to do and say, but somehow the conversation kept going back to the logistic of their relationship. For now, the only set meetings were the upcoming competitions, provided they both qualified for them.

“I usually dread competitions coming up, but I can’t wait for Europeans.”

Emil was lying face down with his arms under the pillow, eyes fighting sleep. He slurred, “I’m going to beat your ass.” It didn’t sound threatening.

“Maybe I’ll beat yours.”

“Plisetsky is going to beat both our asses,” Emil snorted.

Michele cupped his face in his hands. He knew they weren’t being one hundred percent serious right now, but he didn’t want Emil to just accept that someone else was better than them without even fighting. “We can be better than him. We have to give it our best.”

Emil was starting to protest that he didn’t want to have this conversation now, but Michele went on. “Look at me. Your jumps are great. You’re one of the few who can land a quad loop. I have no doubt you can win gold.” He was aware he had switched from ‘we’ to ‘you’, but he found he wouldn’t care if Emil bested him until he retired. He thought he understood Sara now.

Emil smiled weakly, clearly too tired to argue. He propped himself on one elbow and kissed Michele. “We should sleep, _lásko_.” The Czech word and his drowsiness made his accent stronger, and Michele didn’t want to argue any longer. He knew Emil was going to train to win gold, and that was all that matter. He, for his part, would do the same.

They woke up early the next morning. Michele had already packed everything the night before, so that when it was time to leave all he had to do was go back to his room and get his luggage, but it turned out he had forgotten to leave a clean shirt out and bring it to Emil’s room where they slept.

Emil gave him one of his shirts and kept the one Michele had used last night in exchange. “This way we both have something to return to each other.”

“Right, otherwise we wouldn’t want to see each other ever again, mh?”

“I just don’t want to risk it.”

Michele rolled his eyes and came to stand behind him, squeezing him tight in front of the sink where the other was now brushing his teeth. Michele was slightly shorter than him, so he stood on his toes to put his chin on Emil’s shoulder. He tilted his head to place a kiss behind his ear, a spot he had learned the night before always gave Emil goose bumps.

“Stoh ih,” said Emil around the toothbrush.

Michele grinned at him in the mirror’s reflection.

Sara came a handful of minutes later to collect Michele to make their way to the airport, and it was time for them to part ways. She gave them one more minute alone, while she said her own goodbye to Mila.

“ _Arrivederci, amore._ ”

“ _Sbohem_ , _miláčku_ ,” Michele replied, the Czech feeling weird on his own tongue.

Emil took his hands in his. “I know it’s still long until then, but there’s a tradition in my country. _První máj_. First of May. It’s a day for couples to enjoy spring’s beauty out in nature. I’ve never spent it with anyone, but I want to spend it with you this time.” He pressed his forehead against Michele’s. “Will you come?”

“You don’t even need to ask. Of course I will,” he promised.

Later, on the plane next to Sara and their coach, the Mediterranean sea underneath them, he let his mind wander to a place in the future where he had never ventured. He knew it was too soon to imagine things so far off, when he had been together with Emil for barely two days, but for the first time he felt like there was a better future for him and Sara both. He wasn’t naïve enough to think that they could find happiness in Emil or Mila alone, but he knew something had began moving for both of them, and that was enough for now.

He took her hand in his, closed his eyes and leaned back on his seat, smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you said I should write the Mila+Sara extra chapter and I will. I wanted to write it in this fic but I think I'll make a separate one and make this into a series. Maybe keep things open to the possibility of more Michemil stuff in the future (though this is not a promise). After all, I feel like I didn't get to explore Michele and Sara's background as much as I wanted to, but it's a shame because I have my own headcanon regarding their life and their family. I tried to hint at it several times throughout this fic but it was always too much and a bit out of context and ended up deleting it all, though I tried to keep some of it in the final paragraph (I'm so sorry if it's too cheesy) because I don't think Mickey and Sara are happy at home. 
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who stuck with me and helped me with the Czech, your comments have been so nice and whenever I was feeling like I couldn't do this, the thought of disappointing any of you by not finishing made me want to sit down and keep writing.
> 
> As always I'd love to read your feedback, I'm a constructive criticism slut so please, I'm on my knees, hit me hard with all you have. Figuratively.


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